


Imaginary

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Imaginary Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester isn't a lonely child, but his imaginary friend is something quite special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imaginary

**i.**

Imaginary friends are a psychological and social phenomenon where a friendship or other interpersonal relationship takes place in the imagination rather than external physical reality.

At least, that is the Wikipedia definition. To put it in Layman’s terms, imaginary friends are common, frequently among lonelier children for companionship in the imagination. It’s rare for imaginary friends to continue into adulthood, when maturity comes into play and real life takes precedent. An invented companion fades away, replaced by real social interaction.

But not every imagine friend fades away.

Sometimes, they stick around.

Sometimes they’re real.

 

* * *

**ii.**

Dean Winchester isn’t a lonely child, at least at first. He has both parents that give him lovely and attention, and a little brother on the way. He likes to touch Mary’s rounded stomach and press his ear to it, pretending he can hear baby Sammy’s heartbeat.

Companionship isn’t really something he needs when there’s always someone willing to play with him. So the appearance of his imaginary friend strikes Mary and John as unusual. Still, it’s harmless, so they say nothing when Dean suddenly starts talking to himself in the study.

“Who are you?” Dean asks, seeing a small boy peering at his building blocks. He hadn’t been there a moment ago; Dean was sure of it.

The boy looks a little confused as he examines his own body for a second. “Castiel. I’m here to look after you and be your friend. I’m an _angel_.” He puffs his chest out proudly.

“An angel?” Dean scoffs. “You’re not an angel. You don’t have wings.”

Castiel straightens up, scowling. It should look fierce, but at his age and height, it’s very little more than a pout.

“Yes, I do. You just can’t see them because it would burn your eyes out,” he replies, snippily. “They’re big and black and I can prove it.”

Dean watches as the boy screws up his face in concentration, and suddenly his building block tower collapses, as if knocked over by a gust of wind. He’s torn between being upset because it had taken ages to get it that high, and impressed that his new friend just flapped his wings. The latter wins out.

“Cool,” he breathes, awestruck. “I’m Dean. You want to help me build a tower as big as this room?” He gives Castiel his best smile.

Castiel squints at the building blocks and smiles suddenly. “Sure!”

And that’s that.

 

* * *

**iii.**

Dean is four when he overhears his parents talking about Cas.

“I’m sure he’ll grow out of it, he’s just lonely. He isn’t bonding with the other kids in kindergarten because he’s not used to other kids.” Mary soothes John, rubbing his shoulders.

John sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Once Sammy gets older, Dean will have someone to play with and he’ll forget all about Castiel.”

Dean has heard enough, and he hurries back to his bedroom, lip trembling. Of course, Castiel is sitting on his bed, flicking through one of his picture books.

“I won’t ever forget about you, Cas. You’re my best friend.” Dean promises him fiercely.

There’s something in Castiel’s eyes that Dean thinks is sad, but he doesn’t understand why promising they’d be best friends forever would make Cas sad.

“You’re my best friend too, Dean,” Cas speaks up eventually. “I’ll be right here until the very last breath you take in this world.”

Dean believes him, soothed by Cas’ promises and picks up his model truck again, satisfied that his parents were wrong.

Cas would always be with him.

 

* * *

**iv.**

“Dean, I need you to do something for me.”

Castiel’s voice is solemn, serious. It usually is, but there’s something in his tone that implies this is important so Dean sits up to listen.

“You’re going to wake up later tonight. There’s going to be shouting and I need you to stay in bed until I tell you to move, okay? I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Dean frowns, but Cas has never given him a reason to not trust him, so he nods. By bedtime, he’s forgotten all about the warning and crawls into bed tiredly. Cas watches on with a sad expression as Mary kisses him goodnight, but Dean doesn’t notice.

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of Mary screaming. He sits bolt upright in bed as he hears his dad calling out to her, thundering up the stairs. He’s already halfway out of bed before Castiel stops him, shaking his head.

“Not yet, Dean. Trust me.”

Dean’s white as a sheet now, terrified. He wants to see what’s going on, but Castiel is gripping his shoulder, tighter than a child should be able to. It isn’t until the acrid stench of burning reaches his nostrils that Castiel releases him.

“Come on. I’ll be right with you.”

His dad places Sammy into his arms and tells him to get out. He runs, Cas right behind him, as John goes back for his mom.

Even when his dad emerges alone, it isn’t until Castiel places a hand on his shoulder and whispers how sorry he is that Dean realises that his mom is gone, and that she’ll never kiss him goodnight again.

He doesn’t speak after that. Not to his dad, not to Sam, not even to Cas. His friend doesn’t push him, just whispers to him softly and waits for Dean to begin speaking in his own time.

It’s a while before he’s able to manage it, but Cas being there makes it a whole lot easier.

 

* * *

**v.**

Dean is thirteen when he first realises that Castiel might be more than imaginary.

They’re hunting a wendigo. Not something John would ordinarily take him along for, because Sammy is still too young to know about hunting. But Sam is staying with uncle Bobby because John wants Dean to prove that he can handle himself, because sooner or later he’ll be hunting on his own.

Dean’s fine with that. He wants his dad to be proud of him, to look at him with something other than sadness just once.

He’s standing guard outside of the mine while John enters, clutching what amounts to a homemade flamethrower. It’s not a standard weapon for hunting, but he knows that fire is the only thing that can kill wendigos, so he has to know how to use it.

John has warned him countless times about the sneakiness and speed of the wendigos, but Dean hadn’t realised how fast they could be until one was right on top of him. It roars as it charges, and Dean throws himself out of its path instinctively. The claws that are sweeping out towards him miss their kill shot, but still graze his side as he’s flung towards a nearby tree. His hand scrambles for the flamethrower that’s just out of reach, and Dean knows he’s going to die. It’s too quick, too strong, and will tear his throat out before his hand even closes around the weapon.

The wendigo clearly knows that too, it’s pale eyes almost shining with victory.

Claws stretched towards him, Dean closes his eyes and prays for a painless death. He doesn’t know if it’s the prayer that summons Cas, or if his friend senses that he’s in danger, but the next moment there’s an inhuman screech that makes his blood curdle.

Dean opens his eyes, terrified, staring at the monster that’s only a few feet in front of him. Cas is standing between them, his hand outstretched, a pure white light shining from his palm. The wendigo bursts into flames, screaming wildly from the pain.

Somehow, Dean finds the strength to crawl forward and pick up his flamethrower, his free hand clutching as Castiel’s leg as the monster turns to dust.

“Cas,” he gasps, a few tears falling from his eyes. There’s still a searing pain in his side, blood pouring from the wound, but his friend turns and touches his brow and the agony is gone.

“Be more careful, Dean,” Castiel admonishes him gently. “I won’t always be here to protect you.”

Cas disappears before he can say anything else. The next moment, John is running towards him, seeing the pile of ashes and checking his son over for injuries.

John pats him on the head and tells Dean he did good, but all Dean hears is that Cas might not always be around and that thought hurts more than anything the wendigo could have done to him.

 

* * *

**vi.**

The only time that Cas isn’t with him is during his time at Sonny’s.

Dean makes him promise to stay and look after Sam. He knows he’ll be lonely there, knows it will be awful and he misses Cas, but his dad will come for him in the end. This is just his way of teaching him a lesson. Dean understands that, but he won’t leave Sam alone.

Cas agrees, if Dean promises to take care of himself and not do anything stupid.

It’s the best time of Dean’s life. It’s normal and perfect. He meets Robin and gets his first kiss, he joins the wrestling team. Even though he misses Sam and Cas, everything is going the way he wants it to.

Then John turns up and for the first time in his life, Dean’s heart breaks. He wants this life so much that it physically aches to know that he has to go. Sammy needs him.

But for a split second, he’s tempted to stay. Sam knows about the life, already wants out of it. He’s just waiting for the opportunity to go to college and escape. There’s no reason that Dean can’t stay here and live his perfect life.

Then he makes the mistake of looking out of the window and sees Sam playing with his model plane. He looks again; Cas is perching on top of the car, looking straight up at him with a small smile on his face.

Dean laughs and nods, even though his voice betrays the tears he won’t shed, he tells Sonny he has to go. He needs to stay with Sammy and look after him. He also knows that there’s more in store for him than this. All of this, the hunting lifestyle comes from needing the catch the son of a bitch that killed his mom. Cas has told him enough times that Mary’s death was where it began, and that there were many things ahead to face, but he won’t disclose what.

Dean feels the smallest pang of guilt that he knows that the reason he’s leaving here is for Cas and not his brother. Cas won’t stick around if he chooses to stay here, somehow he knows that. So if this life would come at the expense of losing his best friend, then he doesn’t want it.

 

* * *

**vii.**

Castiel winces whenever Dean mentions Robin.

Dean doesn’t talk about her often, because the ache of leaving her and the hurt that Castiel obviously feels when Dean talks about her is enough for him to keep those memories to himself. Still, he’s coming to terms with the side of himself that sometimes imagines that it’s not Robin he kissed.

He can’t pinpoint exactly when his feelings changed. All he knows is that at night, when he imagines his normal life, pictures a world without hunting, Cas is still by his side. Cas is the one he takes to every stupid high school dance and the person he kisses at midnight at New Year. It’s stupid and romantic, and sometimes Dean isn’t even convinced that Cas is real, but when they touch, when they brush hands or pat each other’s shoulders, it’s very real.

But Cas is something special. He’s an angel, he’s more than someone like Dean could ever deserve. To make a move, to act on these feelings would ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. Dean knows that he can live with his feelings for Castiel, but losing him is not an option, so he just stows away his feelings.

Until John starts in on berating him for a hunt that goes sour. Dean takes the chastising like a man, staring his dad straight in the eyes and ignoring the hurt in his chest. When John leaves again, Dean walks out too, heading to the nearest liquor store. He’s only sixteen but he can get someone to buy it for him, he’s sure of that.

Even when the bottle of whiskey is half empty, Dean doesn’t calm down. He feels alone, the weight of the world taking its toll on him. He sits in the woods with his knees pressed to his chest, trying to hold himself together. Somehow he can’t quite remember how he got here, but he knows he can find his way home when he needs to.

Dean doesn’t look up when Cas appears next to him, because he instantly knows he’s there. He can always tell when Castiel is around.

“You’re drunk.”

A bitter laugh escapes Dean’s lips, despite knowing that was a mere observation and not a condemnation.

“Damn right,” he mumbled. “Don’t got much to be sober for. ‘M a failure as a son, as a hunter, as a brother. Sooner or later everyone is gonna realise that.”

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice is gentle, but Dean flinches from the undertone of disapproval anyway. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

Forcing himself to look up to meet Cas’ eyes, Dean feels tears sting his own at the reassurance he so desperately needed to hear. His body reacts on instinct, closing the gap between them and then his lips are on Castiel’s and they’re warm and perfect. For a brief moment, Dean feels a burst of happiness as the world settles into something _right_.

Then Cas pulls away and somehow, the look on his face tells Dean that he’s just done something stupid. He doesn’t back down, because the kiss has told him everything he needs to know and he will never pass that off as a drunken mistake.

“Dean… this can’t happen.”

Dean swallows. “Why not?” He asks roughly. “You kissed me back, Cas, even if it was just for a moment. I felt that. You want me too.”

Castiel stands up, and his wings unfurl behind him, the shadow visible on the trees behind him. Dean finds himself reminded that Cas isn’t just his friend, he’s a powerful, celestial being.

“What I want is irrelevant.” Castiel tells him, his voice commanding respect and basically _ordering_ Dean to listen to him. “This cannot happen again. We each have our parts to play in what is to come, Dean. Your infatuation will fade and…”

“Infatuation?” Dean scoffs, unable to believe that this is what Cas thinks. “Cas, you… _assbutt_!” Not quite the most logical insult he’s ever come up with, but his brain is functioning enough to care at that moment.

He swallows and tries again. “Cas,” his tone is pleading, desperate for the angel to look at him. “You’ve been here for my entire life. My best friend when I was a kid. You helped me so much when my… when my mom died. You think I would throw all of that away for a stupid crush? _I love you_. I’ve always loved you. And I don’t say that lightly. I’ll never say those words to anyone else for as long as I live.”

Castiel’s hands are trembling and he eventually meets Dean’s eyes. “This can’t happen.” He repeats softly, but he leans in and kisses Dean. It’s fleeting, and all of Dean’s fight disappears as his heart breaks in his chest. “I will take you home now.”

Castiel reaches two fingers out to touch Dean’s forehead, but Dean dodges it, averting his eyes. “I’ll walk; I could do with the air. Keep an eye on Sammy.”

Unlike every other time Dean requests to be alone, Castiel doesn’t argue, just nods and disappears. It’s obvious that something has changed, but Dean doesn’t know what that change is yet. He just hopes it’s for the better.

 

* * *

**viii.**

Dean’s eighteenth birthday sees the Impala passing to him. He loves it, of course. It’s the best gift he’d ever received.

It’s marred by the fact that Cas doesn’t make an appearance at all. Dean has seen him maybe seven times in total since he’d drunkenly kissed him. Some nights, he stares at the ceiling and prays to God to send Cas back, that he’ll do better to become a better friend, that his feelings are irrelevant. Either God doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care, because Cas only checks in every few months now, and never for long.

It wears Dean down, makes his chest hurt every day that Castiel isn’t around. He starts to drink more, spend all night with various women that he picks up. He loves women, soft hair, soft skin, pretty lips. They never have blue eyes, though. Dean doesn’t let himself think about that, it’s merely a coincidence.

When Cassie comes along, he tells himself that’s a coincidence too. And no matter how his heart feels, he never says those three little words that he promised to another.

 

* * *

**iv.**

Hell is… hell.

Dean knew it was going to be worse than anything he could imagine. He’d also had a year to imagine what it was going to be like. Still, nothing prepared him for the reality of what he is now forced to endure on a daily basis. The agony, the screams, the bloodlust.

But he has one thing that the demons can’t break. The knowledge that Cas will come back and save him.

He holds on to that thought for thirty years, before he breaks.

Dean doesn’t blame Cas. He blames himself for ruining everything with that stupid kiss, even if his thoughts and feelings had never changed. He’d been nearing thirty when that hellhound ripped him apart, but even then, his dying thought had been of Castiel.

If Cas isn’t trying to save him, it’s because Dean ruined everything by falling in love with him. Even now, after almost ten years off the rack, torturing countless souls, he still feels the surge of disgust towards himself for ruining the most profound friendship he’d ever had. This is where he belongs.

When the angels attack, Dean gets ready to die.

He isn’t expecting Cas to appear right in front of him, staring at him solemnly. Dean doesn’t even know how to react, so he just turns away.

“There’s nothing here for you, Cas. You’re forty years too late.”

Castiel doesn’t speak and Dean doesn’t turn around. It’s a battle of wills and neither of them will break. Still, Dean isn’t expecting the hand on his shoulder, nor the searing pain that follows. He gasps and wheels around. If things are so far gone between them that Cas wishes him harm, then Dean has no problem with dying, but he’ll look his angel in the eyes as it happens.

“Dean,” Castiel breathes, cupping his face in his hands.

Dean blinks, not understanding. He tries to cower back from the touch, unworthy, unwilling to be the subject of Castiel’s pity. He wants to tell Cas that he’s missed him, that he wants to get out of here or be killed, because he can’t do this again.

“I never deserved you.” He says instead, his voice thick. “But you came for me anyway.”

Castiel’s thumb brushed over Dean’s lip, and he slots their mouths together sweetly. “I will always come for you. I have loved you since the moment I met you, Dean Winchester. I hope that distancing myself would make you move on without me, that events would continue to play out as they were meant. But the moment I entered your life as your childhood companion, I unwittingly changed time. Things must go back to the way they are, do you understand?”

Dean didn’t, but if there was one thing he didn’t doubt, it was Cas. So he nods, uncertainly.

“You must forget about me. When we meet again, on Earth, it will seem to you that it was for the first time. Our childhood together never happened. You will remember in time.”

Dean tries to object, because Cas’ friendship, his _love_ was the only thing that kept Dean whole. By erasing his memories of Cas, the angel is taking away the happiest part of his life. He can’t lose that, but he knows that he will, that whatever comes to pass will happen, and that Castiel will be waiting for him in the end.

 

* * *

**x.**

It’s over.

Amara is dead. Lucifer is dead.

The world is whole again. Hell is closed off, the angels about to seal themselves in Heaven permanently. The only seraphim left on Earth is Castiel, who will return to Heaven when the Winchesters eventually pass.

For now, there is peace.

“So, you going to go looking for that something more you talked about?” Sam asks. They talked about this once, fleetingly, after a lot of liquor.

Dean, to his credit, doesn’t even tense, he just turns to look at Castiel. “I already found it, Sammy.” He replies hoarsely, taking Castiel’s hand.

The angel looks shocked, but hopeful, his eyes shining with _something_ that Dean is pretty sure he can now identify as love.

“I met you late,” Dean speaks up quietly. “Hell, Cas. You literally pulled me out of Hell. And I was old, and broken. But meeting you… I feel like I’ve always known you. Falling in love with you all this time feels new… but it also feels like I’ve done it before. I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’ve loved you long before I knew you, Cas.”

Castiel’s arms slide around him instantly, their mouths crashing together. It comes with an explosion of white light in his head, around his ears, and then Dean remembers everything. A solitary tear flows down his cheek, and then another, because Cas is always there, always by his side, and Dean has always loved him.

And Cas has always loved him back.

They separate, and Dean’s hand finds Castiel’s, holding it tightly. He’s barely aware that Sam has backtracked to the Impala to give them some privacy.

“You know, when I was a kid, I wasn’t sure you were real.” He tells Cas, smiling softly.

Castiel smiles right back. “Does this feel real?”

Dean doesn’t know how to say that nothing had ever felt more real without sounding sappy, so he says nothing, just brings Castiel in for another kiss.

Not every imaginary friend fades away.

Sometimes they’re real.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


End file.
